The royal palace killings marked a cultural watershed for the people of Nepal, the security of the past shattered and an uncertain future left to negotiate. Yes, a son can kill his father, mother, and more. Yes, assault rifles can fire many bullets per second. Yes, there are no illusions left. But after the shock, confusion and smouldering ashes of Arya Ghat, there is still parliamentary democracy. What remains of Nepal's royal family may descend from its perch and inject energy into the life of an unguided nation. The new man at Narayanhiti may have the sagacity to remain constitutional monarch in a country going rapidly extraconstitutional. The post-Panchayat penance for past authoritarianism is over, and Nepali kingship must now work openly with government and Parliament to bring peace to a shattered land.
Nepal is robust enough a country to carry on without a king. This was proven when it switched from absolute monarchy to multiparty democracy in 1990 and failed to collapse, contrary to three decades of Panchayat-period propaganda. The point was confirmed over the last 11 years of democratic misrule when, abused by the parties and politicians, the country remained on its feet.
On the other hand, Nepal is fortunate to have a king, as a fulcrum of national identity and institution of last resort. This is a privilege not available to the people of the other larger South Asian countries, whose 'natural' historical evolution was interrupted by the colonial interlude. Rather than a republican presidency, Nepalis have a kingship that reaches back to the very creation of their nation-state two and a half centuries ago and actually much further. That is comforting, except • for those who have no use for tradition. Unique in South Asia, over the decade of the 1990s and up to the present, Nepal has been experimenting with a mix of late-model Westminster democracy backed by an ancient monarchy with its own rituals, paraphernalia and modus operandi. In the midst of this try out, on the night of 1 June 2001, the society was visited by the most violent tremor imaginable. But despite the Guinness-book proportions of the tragedy within Narayanhiti Royal Palace, not one institution of state faltered even as insurgents stood ready in the hills to take advantage of this sudden crumbling of the most secure institution of state. While the 'handling' of the crisis has been roundly criticised, the fact is that two royal successions were managed amidst the crisis, and the shock and anger of a bereaved and unbelieving public controlled.
Indeed, a critical breakdown might well have overtaken the state following that dark and cloudy night, when a little after nine, King Birendra was murdered and his branch of the Shah dynasty wiped out to the last soul. But Nepal actually weathered this decimation of the monarchy despite the mass bewilderment and public angst. And now, all eyes are on Gyanendra, who has just had the plumed crown thrust on him. Can the new king dig himself out of what at its core is a family tragedy, and establish himself quickly as a constitutional king who can work with government, Parliament and civil society? Can he help bring back peace and a sense of security to a country of multi-hued minorities?